The Sentinels an invocation

@Renoir had been a kind host, showing her the forest and as she walked along the lands Rowan could feel it. The steady thrum of life beneath her feet, still, it's deep slumber not forgotten by the world at large. Life could return here, Rowan knew it. She didn't need to close her eyes to see the Forest in it's full glory, the hear the call of birds and to smell the earthy scent kicked up by passing herds. Her grey eyes traveled slowly along the expanse of the trees, a small smile to her lips as her tail swayed in the breeze. There was much to learn here, she felt. 

left open if renoir wants to be present, if not, Rowan would be on the outskirts of the forest.

He was a happy host, more or less, though he only knew the way to Donnelaith and not much about it. Any questions she held were met with soft, somber comments; hints that he was as new as she was to the coast. And once the great trees came in to view (which was soon) Renoir was much more enthusiastic about them. Mumbling anecdotes about their colors, about how great they must be - would be again - and before long the pair of them were upon the outskirts. There he bade she wait, and he let her linger for some long minutes before calling - a bit hesitant - for @Lasher. Once the summons petered out, Renoir settled in to his role as guardian of the woman until the kind man arrived (a thing he awaited with a strange effervescence to his belly).

"Il doit être à couper le souffle en fleur." Rowan said as she looked the trees over, her eyes following all the way up to the top. "There is such a sadness here, though." She could feel that, immediately, and it worried her a bit. When he told her to wait she did so respectfully, head bowing as she sank a little lower - she knew her taller stature could be off putting for some. 

Her comment brings a fresh smile to his face, although it is a bit more loose, likely because of how excited he was - and nervous - to see the dark man again. Renoir licks his lips as he responds, Repons lan se wi, mwen imajine li sa, and he looks up at the trees as well. The sun beams down between them, catching particles of dust which float in the beams. The trunks are an intense umber where the light hits, while the shadows are narrow yet still warm. He passes by her and is briefly shadowed, then pokes his nose from beneath the dark - Mwen menm enpasyan wè li. It is not the only thing he is impatient for, and that withheld feeling of excitement is probably what makes him sound so childish.

She did not know Renoir's age, but, his enthusiasm seemed to be like that of a child. It was near infectious, though Rowan was not one to get so giddy outwardly. Instead she gave him a bright smile in her own rights, grey eyes twinkling a bit. It was good to see the contrast between the male and the lands there were gawking at (perhaps that she was gawking at) and take his appearance as a promise of more to come. Je vais peut-être là pour le voir Rowan wouldn't make any promises - maybe her mother's warnings would be correct, but still, there was a chance.

Sorry, not sorry. Here comes some of the welcome wagon.

A howl went up for his father—but the swarthy man trailed toward the call as well, for nothing more than to satiate his own curiosity. Lasher was a kindly man, and the wolves of Donnelaith were more than capable of protecting their borders. Yet if another was to enter their ranks, Constantine wished to familiarize himself with them as well.
 
The caller had been the demure Frenchman, and as he came to view, the swarthy wolf’s muzzle tipped in a quiet and amicable greeting. At first, it seemed as if Aria had returned – and the boy was tempted to redirect his route and find himself elsewhere and away from her presence, given the unwelcoming stare she had pressed upon him.. yet this girl was not her – the scent alone adjusting his flicker of nervousness and stirring a gentle smile. He was not the man they called for, and as such, his own form remained neutral, not making claim to any rank within the pack. Instead, he skirted forward, tipping his nose to brush against Renoir in a friendly greeting, though remaining silent.

Again I'm being lazy lmao - pls assume he's speaking creole!

Her response made him nod, thinking fondly of what may come to pass - of what sorts of shapes, colors, and textures the forest would hold. Renoir was about to respond when he heard the oncoming steps of another, and turned his head sharply, expecting to see the charming father that lorded over Donnelaith; he was so hasty that he did not realize it was Constantine, even after the friendly shoulder-bump, which sent a strange sensation down Renoir's back.

Ah, you have made it -- Miss Rowan, this is Lasher, master of Donnelaith -- He was so flustered that he did not even look at Constantine, and made the mistake easily. With a slight bow he welcomed the dark wolf and then looked between the two of them - from dark to light to dark - and hoped to watch their introductions; yet midway through his glances he realized this was a younger beast, and his build was rugged but not so fine-boned. This was not Lasher at all!

Oh, my apologies, the boy blurted, his ears standing straight up for a moment before falling back against his golden head - This is his son, I am so sorry - they are so alike, Renoir gulped and sort of danced in place, his blue-eyed gaze jumping between the two of them and gradually dropping until he was staring at his paws, feeling absolutely awful for the blunder. In the back of his mind though, he wondered why he felt so disheartened by the realization.

he had not seen the golden man since their last meeting, and so he wondered if renoir is better left alone. the druid did not wish to drive away an able body -- and on that note he thought of lucani. he would indeed seek her out and see how she fared. for now, the howls of summons rose upon the dry air for him, and he lengthened his stride from an amble to a lope, noting ironically that it was the gilded wolf who called him.

he came upon the end of renoir's unsure words -- he spoke the accented french, and he glanced curiously to the fine-featured tall woman who stood at their gate. touching the golden wolf's shoulder and exchanging a nudge with his returned son, lasher came to stand alongside constantine. "il était ma fortune que nous assortissons," he murmured amusedly, hoping to dispel the tension. 

"quel est votre nom?" lasher asked after a moment, turning his attentions fully to their visitor. donnelaith was all but full -- yet she seemd familiar in an odd way.

For Rowan, it was easy to see just as Renoir could - leaves furled proudly from the tall trees, plants and animal alike to call the forest home. Something beautiful, no doubt, and she could picture it in each season. Beautiful, in the way that no two forests were ever alike. Rowan lifted her gaze briefly to the figure of the dark wolf, putting the name to the body only to find that Renoir had assumed incorrectly. She gave him a little smile, hoping to be comforting until they were greeted by another dark figure and she felt in her the same sort of pull that had lead her to the lands. His question was immediate and logical, Rowan's gaze still at her feet though she briefly lifted her eyes to meet Lasher's. Just a moment, just a spark and her gaze had returned to the earth. 

"Rowan," The woman began, her voice just a hint of rasp to the edge of it, something from ages and times long since passed. "Engendré par Ellie Mayfair du quartier français." While it meant a great deal to her she wondered if either of the other wolves would even care.

Awkward post is awkward.. but didn't want to hold this up!

Bemusement danced upon his features as the pale man introduced him as the regal of Donnelaith – such was an easy mistake, given his comrade had not even glanced to him, and the details of his features mirrored his father’s greatly in many ways.
 
The fair creature before them was also not Aria – an assumption he too had given prior to arrival and the only reason why he had come to investigate closer. Before Constantine could speak to ease the tension, the familiar voice of his father did so for him, and the yearling returned the nudge to his father, his eyes drifting back to study the she-wolf at their borders.
 
Mayfair. His brows arched upward, his gaze tipping sideways to see what his father made of it – for now, he remained silent, as his own opinions were not required.

Very short from me, don't wanna hold this up too!

His blunder was taken in stride, although the boy was still a bit too flustered to notice. He did feel a touch upon his shoulder and shifted to glance at whoever had tried to comfort him, and was shocked to see Lasher on the approach. He fell quiet thereafter, and watched the wolves which had gathered, curious but ultimately overwhelmed by the progression of events.

mayfair. lasher's eyes immediately narrowed upon this rowan. he had not heard of her before, but the surname rang true, and though there was an air of confusion to her, perhaps there was power there also. then again, maybe the woman had heard the name in passing and sought to join his family through way of a lie. "i know no ellie," he rejoined, lapsing into the common tongue, though she spoke french well, as did every other wolf gathered on the borders. 

"how did you come to hear of this place?" the druid asked, his tones having lost their former invitation. his suspicions had been aroused -- they were unlikely to be put to rest easily.

Ellie was perhaps the most removed of all Mayfairs in their pack. She had prided herself on clean lines - of being more pure. Rowan didn't believe it for a moment, however, considering what the pack's more secretive past boasted. "Of Cortland, back to Marguerite." She did not want to trade history - not out there in the open, when she still felt as protective over her own lines as she did. "I did not hear specifically of this place." She admitted, whatever power in her she held a tight lip on, pushing it down as a child who was unsure her actions might try to hide. A fledgling who had not been told the truth of her nature, who had not been properly allowed to blossom. "I was drawn here." She admitted, and it sounded foolish to her own ears but she was honest with the male. 

Feel free to skip and assume Connie is being quiet, as he doesn't have anything useful to add. ;)

Lasher was quick to inform her that he had not heard of the wolf who could have potentially linked them as blood relatives, and Constantine remained silent. His gaze was steady upon the fair girl, her words a curious thing. Her admittance to being drawn here was what stirred his true interest, and without offering any insight of his emotions upon the matter, the swarthy wolf only continued to level his stare upon her, one ear flickering in the direction of his father.

Skip me too! He's a background character atm.

They seemed to know of each other, or rather, the girl knew of Lasher. Renoir glanced in tiny batches towards the dark man, feeling his cheeks grow ruddy with each stolen look, and studied his expressions for the tiniest of moments. There was nothing for him to do or to say, so he remained silent, curious like the boy Constantine but ultimately an unneccessary addition to the scene. Renoir thought that it would be a good time for him to depart, and leave this family to sort themselves out; yet he lingered by Lasher, contented by his company.

cortland. marguerite. he felt brazenly the gaze of renoir but did not turn to look upon the gilded man. there would be time enough for such things. "drawn here, in some vague fashion." why had she come? for the first time was the druid loathe to offer admittance to a wolf at his threshhold, and he tried to search within himself to understand why.

The wolves that fell silent she only passed her ashen gaze over. She was familiar and more comfortable with Renoir, but, it was not his judgement ultimately. She turned her attention fully to Lasher, holding her tongue for a moment. She was only just learning what she was, what she truly  was, but the questions just kept coming. She could not expect him to be the only guide to her life, but she was hopeful that he could do something. "I have traveled weeks." She admitted. "Not knowing my destination - drawn here, yes though nothing was vague." She admitted. "I don't expect you to trust me, to understand me - to accept me. But. Consider me. Consider our ties, if I could implore you to do so." She held none of the power but her own, and even that was at it's best uncertain. 

since he accepts her in another thread, i'm gonna have him dismiss her in this one <3 last post for me unless he's tagged back in!

lasher listened, but the words of the ashen mayfair did not move him. he knew her not, nor her family, nor why she had come. if it was a witch's heart that had drawn her, then let her meditate upon it. a long moment of silence followed, in which the druid straightened. "come back another day, rowan mayfair. think about why it is you have come, and what it is you want."

with that he watched her silently; the dismissal was clear, as was his test. if she was to be a worthwhile member of donnelaith, she would do as he asked and return. if not, she was no mayfair. eyes glanced to renoir and constantine; lasher knew the pair would escort her away if she was reluctant, and so turned to depart the scene.

Although it burned her to be dismissed she understood he had to protect his family. Their family. What level of devotion this might invoke in her at a later time was left open, but she gave a curt nod, her eyes drifting from the dark male as he turned to leave them behind and then looked from Renoir to Constantine. "I appreciate your gentility." She said quietly. She would see them soon enough, she was certain. "Don't trouble yourselves - I'll show myself out." She promised, the lithe woman turning to depart herself. 

My last post! If you guys wanna wrap up, sure, otherwise I'll archive in a couple days!